


Not Flowers

by katieandsav



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas is rly cute, M/M, super short oops, the oc is chill no worries, unrequited kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 11:34:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1224766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katieandsav/pseuds/katieandsav
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every year, the man in the trench coat appears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Flowers

No one knew the blue eyed man. But his name wasn't important to the town, it was his presence. 

On the anniversary of the fire, that resulted in the death of a family and a John Doe, the man appeared in town. 

It hadn't been a big fire, but the family had been loved around town. 

The John Doe had been around for a week or so before, and had tried to save a baby boy from the fire, and dying himself while trying to do so.

The little boy lived on, but that was a different story entirely. 

Nobody actually knew this blue eyed man, outside of the fact that he never aged and was always wearing a tan trench coat. 

On the anniversary that every year, the boy visited the grave of the John Doe, just to somehow thank the man who'd saved his life. 

Every year, no matter how early the boy came, there was always a six pack of beer and a new set of car keys. 

One year, the boy came earlier in the day. The boy was grown up and had a family of his own, so he had little time. 

There he stood, the mythical man. 

His presence was powerful, almost not human. He held the beer in one hand, and the keys jingled in his pockets. 

He spoke softly to the grave, like the man would push his way through the dirt and respond. 

"Hello?" the boy broke the silence. 

The man in the trench coat turned around slowly. 

"Dean Winchester died for a worthy cause, Samuel." The man seemed to know him. 

"How do you know my name, sir?" the boy masked his vague sense of fear with curiosity. 

"Well, I do sometimes pick up newspapers. And Dean always had a weakness for Sams," the man replied fondly. 

"What's your name?"

"Castiel. And I'm afraid I must be going," the man- Castiel - placed the items on the grave and started to walk away slowly. 

"Wait a sec, Cas," the nickname slowed him. "I have a question for you."

"Yes, fine."

"Why not flowers?" Samuel was genuinely curious. 

Cas smiled fondly. "Dean Winchester was not fond of things like flowers. He much preferred simple, comforting things. Flowers simply wouldn't have suited him. He was a completely different kind of beautiful." Castiel's voice trailed off towards the end of the sentence. 

"We're you in love with him?" 

"You had one question, Samuel." Castiel's expression said everything he didn't. 

The blue eyed man turned and walked away, and Samuel approached the unmarked grave. 

He dug through his pockets and found the small Swiss Army knife he carried with him. 

"Dean Winchester," he mumbled as he scratched the initials into the stone, which had been simply marked "unknown" for 25 years. 

He smiled. He had a name for the man who was the reason he was alive. 

The day he left that graveyard, he was fully content with himself. 

He continued to return every year, but he never encountered Castiel again. The keys and beer were always there, even as Samuel aged. 

The day Samuel died, a blue eyed man appeared in town. He now came twice a year.


End file.
